Entering the ruin of Rakunftz
by ShingshangBangarang
Summary: Newly promoted Swordmaster Amshana al-Sentinel of the Fighter's Guild battles her instincts as she prepares to lead her men into the Dwemer ruin of Rankunftz on the basis of a contract whose merits she begins to doubt.


Amshana looked out across the valley and shivered. It was snowing heavily, and the mountains to the north were hidden behind the veil. She could barely make out the lights in the little village by the lake where they had set out the previous morning.

The muffled sound of heavy boots crunching the snow approached behind her.

"Funny, init? Way the weather turns, eh, Swordmaster." said Rikkard as he planted himself at her side. The big man's fur lined cloak was heavily laden with snow, and so was his beard.

"If you stopped calling me that every other sentence, I might actually forget. What do you reckon?" she asked him.

The older man peered up towards the grey skies. "Well I dunno, to be frank with ya. I never been up this far before. It's early season though, I reckon it'll stop by the mornin'."

"Cold comfort, we'll be snowed in by the end of daylight if this keeps up. How goes the digging?"

"Only Talos knows. These Dark Elves are right princely about their privacy. If you pardon me language, Swordmaster." He was quiet for a second. "Speak my mind?" he asked.

"Don't ask permission, speak." She looked at him. The man's coarse brow was deeply furrowed as he spoke.

"Well you know I been doin this for well over thirty years, Swordmaster. An', you know, these jobs are rare. I mean I been to a Dwarven hold once. Once, with a mage from the College. An' I seen magic in these places that's really somethin' else."

"Go on."

"Well, an' it might be nothin' but these folk rub my legs all the wrong ways, Swordmaster."

"Noted, Journeyman, and thanks for your insight as always. But I doubt you waded through all this damned snow just to tell me that."

"No I didn't, Swordmaster, the Protector requests you in her tent. Though to be frank I don't think her tent is any warmer than this spot right here."

"Well if I'm going to freeze I might as well do it inside, and I don't want to let that particular blizzard wait. Go back to your duties, Journeyman."

As she made her way back towards the flickering lights of the campsite, she contemplated on Rikkard's words. In truth, she shared his concerns. All her life she had spent in the streets and docks of cities and towns around Tamriel, and in the three years since she joined the Guild she had worked many jobs and met many people. She knew how to tell a beggar from a thief, a merchant from a fraud and a bachelor from a married man. But she did not know these people, save that they were Dunmer with the financial resources to hire twenty members of the Guild, horses and all. They travelled separately in a gilded ebony carriage drawn by twelve black horses, and they even brought their own protection. Those four knights were the only thing she had seen of their enigmatic employers. She had studied them from afar but had learned virtually nothing. Their steeds and armour were the same as those of the carriage, but nowhere was there an insignia to be seen, no part of their armour ever came off, and they would not look at or talk to anyone other than the Protector. However, they moved in a way with grace and purpose that made her certain that it would be a dark day if she ever came to crossing swords with them.

As she entered the warmth of the Protector's tent she saw she was not the only one who had been summoned. Swordmaster gro-Uglok was already seated on one of the rickety camp stools they used when travelling. It looked almost comically small beneath the massive Orc. Protector Rina was stood behind a thin-legged wooden desk, her cloak neatly folded on one end and the other laden with documents. The Protector was a sinewy woman with trimmed auburn hair graying at the temples. But her eyes were were her signum, a clear pale blue, hard and unyielding, that could catch you and hold you and grind you to pieces. She fixed Amsa with them now.

"Swordmaster Amshana, sit." said Protector Rina.

"Protector Rina, Swordmaster gro-Uglok" Amsa replied as she seated herself next to the Orc.

"I have orders for you." declared the Protector. "The Dunmer have finished their excavation and unearthed the entrance to these ruins. They have opened the doors and have asked us to go inside and find and secure the path to the central chamber." She looked at Amsa. "Swordmaster Amshana, this is your first command in your new capacity. You will lead this expedition."

Amsa straightened, and saw the Orc stiffen in the corner of her eye. "I will, Protector."

"You shall have two Journeymen and four Associates of your choosing for this assignment. A representative of the Dunmer will also accompany you, and will meet you at the ruins. Swordmaster gro-Uglok, you shall secure the passages as they become safe. Any questions?"

"With respect," the Orc bristled.

"With respect, if there is nothing else you are both dismissed." The Protector seated herself and reached for the stack of documents.

"Actually, Protector, if I may," said Amsa. "do we know what the Dunmer want in this ruin? Does the contract state?"

"This contract has been vetted like any other," answered the Protector without looking up, "and it is up to me to determine how best to execute it. What I choose to share with you and when I share it is at my sole discretion. You would be very well advised not to question our standard of business or my way of handling an operation again, Swordmaster Amshana. You are dismissed."

Amsa left the tent even more filled with unease than before. Not because of her assignment, although it had been unexpected. No, she welcomed that. She had been rising through the ranks quicker than most, and the leadership were still testing her. She was happy to rise to the challenge. The heavy snow had started to develop into a blizzard, and she pulled her cloak tightly around her body as she struggled through the camp. What worried her was something else. It was not unheard of but certainly unusual for a commander to withhold information on a contract from their officers. Usually it happened when there was deemed to be a heightened risk of desertion or theft, but if that was the case here then what exactly were they walking into?

She found Rikkard at the western edge of the site, his voice battling against the increasing howl of the wind, energetically cursing out a couple of Associates whose tent seemed to have collapsed under the weight of the snow..

"I see you're working hard." she shouted as she approached.

"These dog-eared, useless pieces o' skeever shit thought they could be snuggling in their tent all day and not go outside and wipe it off! See what happens when you're scared o' the bleeding weather, ya smelly specks o' dragon piss?"

She pulled him away from his charges. "I'm gonna lead an expedition into the ruins." she said, almost yelling. "Meet me there and bring your two best fighters."

"You're gonna lead the expedition? Talos save us!"

"The Protector wouldn't say what the contract is. I asked but she wouldn't say."

The big Nord looked out across the camp, his face barely visible amid the whirling snow. "You asked her? Daring. And not very smart!"

"I know! I'm going to find J'hellon. Meet us there!"

He nodded. "Work fast or the Journeyman might start swearing like he means it!" she yelled to the pair of miserable looking young fighters.

She found Journeyman J'hellon at his tent, trying to stem the rising tide of snow on his canvas. J'hellon was a Khajiit a little older than her with a foot missing from his tail and a pair of eyes with mismatched colours. He was a good listener with good instincts and a solid and reliable swordarm. She would be happy to have him under her command. The Khajiit thanked her after she had helped clear away the worst of it.

"This snow is like this one's wife, heavy and refuses to go away!" he called.

"I'm leading an expedition into the ruin. I need you. Find your two best men and follow me!" she called back.

His tail twitched, and he cocked his head a little as he answered. "This one is at your service, Swordmaster. This one will drag them out of their tents if he has to!"

The Khajiit disappeared into the camp and she did not have to wait long before before he returned, dragging two Nords behind him she only knew by name and not character. One of them was Harkon, a thin and wiry man with bushy eyebrows who could wield a sword as well as any of the recruits. The other was Osha, a woman who looked like her features had been hewn from stone and who swung her battlehammer with such ferocity that she might as well be made from it.

"We are all ready, Swordmaster. And if this one may be so bold, your new armour suits you!"

"Thank you, Journeyman, perks of being a normal size! Let's go!"

They walked along the southern edge of the camp until they came to a spot where the unyielding terrain on the mountainside above cleared and it was passable. Then they started the walk up the mountain to the ruins, following the trail of the enchanted glowing sticks the Dunmer had brought and installed this morning. As they approached the ruin, a pair of massive dark shapes flanked them on either side. This had to be the Dwemer towers visible from the village on the valley floor. She had spotted them the previous morning, when the fog had cleared and they were about to start the climb up the mountain. They had appeared as two gleaming white pearls in the morning light. She had not been able to catch a glimpse of them since, and they were obscured from their campsite. Their immense size and ominous looming presence did little to lessen her sense of unrest.

They soon came in view of the entrance, which had been well lit by the Dunmer. It was a large and intricately decorated, brass coloured metal door. To the right of it stood Rikkard and his men, but Amsa's eyes were on the figure next to them. Clad all in black - hood, robe and staff - the mage had placed herself right in front of the entrance, perfectly centered.

"Very dramatic, this one thinks." said J'hellon at her side.

Amsa could do nothing but agree. Whoever these Dunmer were, they put a value on presentation, and Amsa did not like it. When she was still an Associate in Solitude, she had once participated in an assignment to deal with a cell of cultists worshiping the daedric prince Molag Bal. That whole house had been a nightmarish feast of iconography, symbols and presentation. These folk were starting to rub her legs all the wrong ways too, no doubt.

"Hail, you must be the representative of the Dunmer. My name is Swordmaster Amshana, I'll be leading the expedition down into the ruin!" she called as she approached.

When she got close, she saw that the representative wore a mask, also black but with a single vertical golden line splitting the mask in two symmetrical halves. This just got better and better.

"No, Swordmaster." said the mage, her voice muffled and metallic behind the mask. "You will follow me. I will lead you to the chamber."

"My orders are to clear a path to the chamber!" Amsa replied warily and looked at Rikkard, who held her gaze. "Do you know the way?"

"Yes." answered the mage. "Follow me into the heart of Rakunftz." The black figure turned and put her staff on different points of the door. There was a deep _clunk_ of metal on stone, followed by series of _tick, tick, tick_, barely audible over the howling of the wind. Then the giant metal slab swung inward, seemingly without a sound and revealed a corridor, deep and dark that seemed to lead into the core of the mountain.

"Lead the way then, representative!" called Amsa, and followed the mage into the darkness.


End file.
